


To Live Without a Soul

by AmethystAuthoress



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera (2004), Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Author Projecting onto Christine, Christine is depressed, Depression, Health problems, Loss of Identity, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Sad, Suicidal Thoughts, trigger warning, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24907759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmethystAuthoress/pseuds/AmethystAuthoress
Summary: Christine loses both Erik and her Voice that night.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	To Live Without a Soul

How long can someone live when part of them is dead?  
Christine’s mind went to that thought far more often than she would have liked.  
She had lost two major parts of herself that day, down below. First was having to leave behind her Angel...The Phantom...Erik...Whatever he should be called. She had realized more and more with each passing day that perhaps she did love him. Her heart longed for him, though she had no idea if he even lived.  
If he was alive, he surely would not want her now anyways.  
The second thing she lost was her music. The parts of the Opera House had been set ablaze and, between the fallen chandelier and dropped lanterns from rioters, there was a good deal of flames that her and Raoul had to survive through. The smoke had been everywhere. It was impossible for her to have avoided breathing some in.  
The doctor told her a month later that she would likely never be able to sing again. She did not take it well. Her weakened body and mind showed problems beyond just that though. She would jump at any sudden noise. Her hands trembled when she attempted to coax sounds from Raoul’s piano. She fell asleep at random times, had trouble rising from bed, and would faint on occasion.  
She could never take to the stage again.  
Her entire life had been planned around her performing. She practiced nearly every moment that she could. Erik had helped her change her diet patterns and sleep schedules around what was necessary to maintain her voice and body as well. Her dreams were filled with song and dance. Her father had been a great musician and she had wanted to follow in his footsteps. Now, it was all gone.  
Raoul brushed her growing depression aside. He tried to make sure that she got outside and ate properly, but she was just going through the motions. Her soul was dead.  
He saw no issues with her changing future. After all, she couldn’t have stayed at the Opera House forever, if they were to marry. A viscountess could not also be a prima donna. It would have caused a great scandal. Christine, herself, was a scandal just for existing. She didn’t have the right pedigree or past to marry Raoul, nevermind that it had taken weeks to convince him to allow Meg to be in the wedding.  
These things were normal for Raoul. Part of life. After all, Christine was about to marry far above her station. Who cared if she could no longer perform? Who cared if she was expected to minimize contact with her closest friends? She was going to be one of society’s elite soon and would be too busy making new little de Chagnys to worry her pretty little head over such things.  
Her Angel had understood that fate. He had fought (quite valiantly) against her having such a fate. She had repaid his attempts with scorn, betrayal, and broken promises. Now, she was facing the consequences.  
Christine had cried every day since her return to above ground. During the day, she would feel numb to the world and somehow get through the day without feeling much of anything. Sometimes she would utilize her acting skills to pretend to not be but a walking corpse of her former self. She would take a stroll with Raoul or laugh at his jokes over dinner. Her fiance would look so happy wherever she did so. A glimmer would appear in his eyes again, as she stoked the hope in him that she might manage to rise out of this and be his perfect little Lotte again.  
False hopes and false promises.  
How could he hope that she would be okay again? Didn't he know how her body filled up with energy and emotion that could only be let out through song? Couldn't he see how she still tapped out tunes against her spoon every meal and subtly went through the ballet positions whenever she stood in line at the store? Didn't he notice how she still avoided dairy to ensure her voice would not be further damaged? She still even held her body with the posture of a dancer and soprano, which had been drilled into her for years. Every time she had a moment to think, her mind was filled with day dreams of roles she could one day play. Her dreams and soul belted in time with her imaginary Christine - the version of Christine that had not lost her reason to live.  
Christine could not live a life without her music no more than she could live a life without her Angel. She had loved Raoul. She could not be what Raoul wanted though, nor could he ever be what she needed. She would wilt under his light, while he just kept shining brighter in an effort to save her.  
Perhaps Erik would shoo her away, once he learned about the damage done to her voice. Perhaps he would hate her for leaving him to the mercy of the mob. Perhaps he was already dead or long gone.  
Christine didn’t know, but she would soon. She had to.  
She left behind a note for Raoul, for when he awoke and a maid found her room empty. Hopefully the Opera House or Madame Giry would give her the answers that she needed. Even if they couldn’t, she needed Raoul to know that she wouldn’t be returning. She would either find her Angel or she would... It was better if she didn't finish that thought quite yet. She sent out a prayer to God that her letter wouldn't end up being her last note.  
Please, let Erik be alive. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just sat down and wrote this in under a half an hour. It largely came from me venting about my own inability to perform anymore (also due to medical issues), which I projected on to how Christine might feel in such a situation. It's messy, but there ya go.


End file.
